Free Doctor On The Ball by Richard Gordon Page B

flattering fit. Her white dress, blue belt and black stockings mixed memory with desire.
    ‘I heard there’s a part-time job going at The Downs Private Clinic,’ I told her. ‘Good money.’
    ‘I don’t think I’ll bother,’ she said vaguely, twirling. ‘If you’re shortly going to retire.’
    ‘You know I’m not going to retire,’ I objected crossly. ‘Lord Lister was looking after Queen Victoria years older than me.’
    ‘It’s just what I hear all over Churchford.’ She was admiring herself in the mirror.
    ‘Bloody Quaggy,’ I muttered.
    I left for the surgery. More open-handed apprehension. Pam Watson arrived, with her shopping.
    ‘Richard–’ She leaned forward earnestly in her chair. ‘It’s about our daughter. Something came out after the party.’
    So Gwen had spoken up. That Sunday afternoon, both her parents with a hangover, too. Did Pam regard me as the gravest menace to teenage children since Fagin?
    ‘Gwen discussed her embarrassing problem, did she?’
    Pam stared admiringly. ‘You doctors! Real mind readers. But of course! You were clever and noticed the first signs.’
    ‘God! She’s pregnant.’
    ‘I should hope not !’
    ‘Sorry.’
    ‘It’s her allergy.’
    ‘To what?’
    ‘Absolutely everything,’ Pam said forthrightly. ‘ You know. This total allergy syndrome. It’s always getting in the newspapers. At least, I suppose that’s what Gwen was going on about,’ she continued uncertainly. ‘You know how coy young girls are about their bodies? So I said, Gwen, darling, it’s total allergy, but don’t worry , Mummy will look after you , as Mummy always does, Mummy will go to the doctor about it first thing tomorrow morning.’
    ‘Why couldn’t she come to the doctor about it herself?’ I demanded briskly.
    ‘But she has to go to school.’
    ‘She’s got a bike. She could slip in before assembly and Miss Brownlow on the Yamaha.’
    ‘I suppose so,’ said Pam vaguely. ‘Is there a pill or something you can give her?’
    ‘I cannot prescribe without examining the patient. Hippocratic Oath.’
    ‘Oh, well, perhaps Gwen will be all right if nature takes its course. She didn’t seem desperately ill with it, I must say.’ Pam fidgeted. ‘Anyway, I wanted to consult you this morning, because there’s something else.’
    ‘About Gwen?’
    ‘No. About me.’ She crossed her legs. ‘Richard–’ She crossed them again.
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘You know I’m not on the pill? It’s Bill, remember? He was terribly scared about it clotting the blood, you keep seeing it in the papers. Awfully sweet and considerate of him, really.’
    She took a deep breath. ‘Now I’ve this lovely new job in Mayfair, naturally there’s a lot of social duties involved, you wouldn’t believe the cocktail parties, I mean, absolutely no expense spared, but of course all to create business, Japanese and that, and honestly, some of the sales personnel are really quite nice, you know, our sort of class, and it would be more convenient if I was on the pill, but if Bill found out he would kill me.’
    She looked at me nervously, like Gwen.
    ‘Fine!’ I rubbed my hands. ‘Splendid. No problem. Your husband will never know. My Hippocratic Oath. Just one thing–’
    ‘Yes?’ she asked anxiously.
    ‘Are you over sixteen?’
    She exploded into hearty laughter, in which I joined.
    I saw her to the surgery front door. Returning, I muttered, ‘I know about family planning, but this is ridiculous.’
    Mrs Jenkins was confused.
    I imagined the Watsons gathered each evening at the television set brooding during the commercial breaks on their unspeakable secrets, their hearts blacker with guilt against the radiant innocence of the others’. How a prescription for the pill could flutter as emotively as Desdemona’s handkerchief! Was I handling the case correctly? It might be unethical, but altogether kindlier, and possibly preclude them suffocating each other with their pillows, if I invited Bill,